While I photograph,he barely movessteadfast in his gaze,planted in his stanceears pitched forward acquiringlyin unwavering focuswe acknowledge our mutualcuriosity and sentience.

Unfold

I push command nand a new blank page appears.The screen is more opaque,more illusionary,than the screen on my doorthat lets the fresh, dewyair of morning fill the kitchen.

The white, sanitary blanknesswaits the arrival of keystrokes,waits thoughts in my headto coalesce in some meaningful way,leaping synapse to synapse,linking syllable to syllableto express purpose, passion,like a recipe, a prayer.

I try to track the movements,as if a thousand chimpsare swingingrandomly through treetopsof their mountain homebefore the early fog has lifted.Though I feel the urge,endeavor speech,I see no pattern,I discern no path.

Now, just now you appear,bright in my unfocused memorya point of light toward whichI turn in recognition, in hope,ready to let the drama of dayunfold unencumbered, unafraid.